


Three Liters

by ArtyArtillery



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, All these women are super mega ultra gay but they're playing it cool, Food, if you squint like it's a magic eye picture you'll see an OT3, there's only one bed, trying to play it cool anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 08:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtyArtillery/pseuds/ArtyArtillery
Summary: Barriss is so tightly wound that it’s a wonder that she hasn’t already imploded into a black hole. That can’t be good for her health, so out of concern, Ahsoka and Riyo are going to get her to relax.Or: Riyo is helping. She’s helping! Honest.Or: Barriss suspects that Riyo Chuchi is the Dark Side incarnate.Or: Ahsoka can’t believe that there’s only one bed.





	Three Liters

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy.

Ahsoka walks into Riyo’s office with a straight back and square shoulders, her chin slightly lifted, and her lips peeled back from her pointed teeth. Her posture is nigh indistinguishable from the Togruta threat pose (it’s the teeth that makes it). Riyo doesn’t bat an eye—Ahsoka rarely bothers with an actual threat pose because if she wanted to take you out, she’d just do it—but everyone else is alarmed. A yellow-green Rodian, her assistant, appears at Ahsoka’s elbow with a cringe at what they’re sure is a disruption. Riyo’s guest, Senator Kin Robb, gasps and almost falls out of her seat upon seeing Ahsoka’s grim focus.

“Riyo, I’m worried about Barriss,” Ahsoka says in a low voice. Ah, so she’s stressed. That explains the threat pose. The assistant, Vigoram Yacha, keeps reaching out as if to take Ahsoka’s arm and pull her out of the office again, but falters, too intimidated to actually touch her.

“Aren’t we all. Please wait, Ahsoka.” Riyo stands up and offers Senator Robb a hand. “Thank you for your time, Kin.”

Senator Robb slowly rises out of her seat, her eyes still on Ahsoka, but she blindly gropes for Riyo’s hand and grasps it tight. “Can I rely on your vote for today’s bill?” It comes out a bit forced, like she’s trying to keep herself from screaming, but to her credit, she doesn’t stutter.

Ahsoka moves to the side to let Senator Robb pass, but in doing so, she steps into a shadowy corner of the office. Her unblinking blue eyes seem to take on an unnatural light while she stands there, and Senator Robb grips Riyo’s arm tighter.

“Yes.” Riyo places herself between Ahsoka and Senator Robb as she escorts her to the door. “You’ve been quite persuasive. I’ll see you later, Kin.”

After what seems to be a great effort, Senator Robb tears her eyes from Ahsoka to look at her. “I better,” she says. She almost runs down the hall and doesn’t look back.

“I’m worried about Barriss,” Ahsoka says again.

“Me too.” Riyo turns to her assistant. “Five minutes, Vigo.”

Vigo makes a small noise of dissent. “But ma’am, you have lunch with Chairman Papanoida right now! And then you have a meeting with Star Tours after that.”

“Five minutes,” Riyo repeats. She ushers Vigo out of the office and closes the door behind them.

“I’m worried about Barriss,” Ahsoka says.

Riyo goes behind her desk and gestures to the guest chair. “Please sit. What’s wrong with Barriss?”

Riyo met Barriss through Ahsoka, then met Barriss’s master, Luminara Unduli, shortly after, and she privately named the pair of them ‘Mother-Daughter Dresses.’ Although Riyo regularly spends time with Ahsoka, and has professed interest in getting to know Barriss, it’s difficult to get her away from her padawan duties, healer duties, and whatever new, ambitious project Master Unduli has assigned to her.

If Riyo can make the time in her hectic schedule, however, she’s very sure Barriss could too.

Ahsoka sits in her chair, still unnaturally stiff, but at least her upper lip comes down. “She’s been saying a lot of stuff—well, she hasn’t been saying anything specific, but she’s…it’s like…I don’t know how to explain it.”

Riyo leans back in her chair and regards her friend, careful to school her face into what she hopes is a neutral expression. To ask her, an outsider, for help about this would require a backbone beyond even Ahsoka’s. No wonder she’s stressed.

“What does Master Unduli say about Barriss?”

Ahsoka drops her gaze. “I didn’t go to Master Unduli about this.”

“Is Barriss in danger?”

“I don’t know.”

Riyo winces at that, (she didn’t mean to) and Ahsoka scoots closer, her hands spread.

“I don’t know what to do! Barriss is saying a lot of weird stuff about the Code, and the Order, and she’s _scared_. She doesn’t say she’s scared, but I can sense it, and I’m _scared for her_ , but I don’t know what to do about it.”

“And you don’t want to go to Master Unduli because…why? Do you think she’ll be angry with you? Or her? Do you believe she wouldn’t be concerned about Barriss?”

Ahsoka hesitates, then slowly says, “I think that Master Unduli might focus on the wrong thing. That she’ll miss the fact that Barriss needs help and she’ll focus on what Barriss is saying about the Code instead. I think that if I go to Master Unduli about this, the Council will find out and they won’t…they won’t like it.”

Riyo sighs. “Ahsoka, I’m an outsider. How can I help?”

“Barriss is being cryptic and mysterious. If we can just get her to open up about what’s really bothering her, then we can start helping her.”

“I’m not a therapist?”

“No, you’re a _friend_. And you know how to ask questions in that way you do.”

“Am I Barriss’s friend? We’ve had lunch like, twice.”

“To be Barriss’s friend, that’s good enough. Riyo, please! Please help me?”

Ahsoka’s blue eyes are wide and pleading, and desperate, and something in Riyo’s chest twinges. She bites on a knuckle to steel herself.

“Alright.”

“Yes!” Ahsoka pumps a fist in the air. “Cool, what’s the plan?”

What is the plan? An intervention? But there isn’t anything to intervene about. And Barriss doesn’t do well with direct, personal questions. She’s skittish that way. Something like this requires some finesse. A gentle hand. Perhaps some misdirection. Riyo checks her data pad, then looks up at Ahsoka.

“We’re going to get her drunk.”

* * *

Barriss has never been to a Faustian Festival. She’s seen Faustian younglings in the Halls of Healing, some young enough to still have a mane of bluish-white fuzz growing out of their scalp and down the back of their necks. There’s a dashing Faustian police officer that collaborates with the Jedi from time to time, and everyone has heard of that one Faustian mad scientist who almost killed Ahsoka, but she’s never been to a Faustian Festival.

Ahsoka and Riyo invited her to one, and she didn’t reply right away. She doesn’t see the point in going, to be honest. She’s prepared to gently let Ahsoka and Riyo down.

There’s a knock at the door. Barriss swivels around on her desk chair to face it and calls out, “Enter.”

The door opens and Luminara steps in. Barriss drops her stylus on the desk.

“Master?”

“Padawan.” Luminara takes the few steps towards her, but stops short. Her hands are clasped before her in the very image of restraint.

“Do you want to sit?” Barriss asks, but Luminara holds up a hand.

“I won’t be long. I’ve just come from the Archives, where I’ve had the most interesting conversation with Ahsoka.”

“Oh?” That’s…odd.

“Ahsoka said she invited you to the Faustian Festival.”

“ _The_ Faustian Festival? I was under the impression that Faustian Festivals happened everywhere.” They could go to any Faustian establishment across Coruscant and they’d have some festival items.

“Yes, but Ahsoka talked about the one taking place in the next quadrant over, on the Brewery District fairgrounds. _The_ Faustian Festival. You should go.”

“B-but I have work! Master, I need to write five different flimsi’s, and several data cards I need to read, and all of this need to be done before I start my ten-hour shift in the Halls of Healing.”

Luminara doesn’t even blink. “Yes, but those five flimsi’s are almost done. You’re already working on the final drafts. Those data cards don’t need to be read for three months, and your shift in the Halls of Healing isn’t scheduled to take place for two days.

“Go be with your friend,” Luminara says. She gives Barriss a rare smile before she leaves the room. 

How in the Force did Ahsoka happen to run into Luminara at the Archives anyway? Ahsoka doesn’t _go to the Archives._ But what’s done is done, and Barriss is here at the entrance to the Temple now, and so is Ahsoka and Riyo, and it is awfully difficult to refuse Ahsoka when she smiles.

Perhaps this won’t be such a pointless exercise after all.

Ahsoka takes Barriss’s arm in hers as soon as they leave the Jedi Temple, which is nice. It’s still nice even if the Force around Ahsoka is riddled with anxiety despite her having nothing to be nervous about at all. But it’d be rude to ask why, so she doesn’t, and Ahsoka doesn’t tell her.

Riyo has left behind her tailored suits in favor of a simple button-up shirt and a pair of dark pants. The sleeves are unbuttoned and rolled up, revealing intricate yellow tattoos covering both arms and even the backs of her hands. Barriss has seen them before, but she hasn’t asked about them. Are they similar to Mirialan tattoos? Do they serve similar purposes? Do they tattoo the same places on the body?

Barriss catches herself staring at the open collar of Riyo’s shirt, looking for a hint of yellow. She tears her eyes away in favor of looking at Ahsoka.

“What changed your mind?” Ahsoka is asking.

“Master Unduli,” Barriss says. Ahsoka and Riyo share a knowing look and Barriss tsks. “I knew it. You planned that meeting with Master Unduli. Was that your idea, Senator?”

“It was.” Riyo admits this without an ounce of guilt, because of course she would. “We never get to see each other and and I thought we could all do something nice.”

“We could go to a caf house instead,” Barriss says.

“But Faustian culture is so rich and fascinating! We could go and learn something new,” Riyo says.

“I could do that with research.”

“You’d rather learn about other people from data cards and flimsies than from other people? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

“What purpose?” Barriss asks.

Riyo shrugs. “I thought, as Jedi, and as keepers of the peace, you and Ahsoka are tasked with helping people across the galaxy. Since you can’t help people without understanding them, it’s kind of your duty to learn about all the different kinds of people in the galaxy. The best way to do this is by learning their culture. You could think of it as an educational experience.”

Luminara once said that there are two kinds of politicians (many people say that there’s only one kind, but they’re wrong). The first kind is the kind that everyone thinks about when they talk about the standard politician: shallow and dumb as bricks. The second kind is the absolute opposite. They’re smart enough to think in more than seven directions at once, can _and will_ manipulate you with such precision that you’ll wonder if they’ve Mind Tricked you with the Force, and will do all this while appearing to be harmless.

So when Ahsoka first introduced Barriss to Galactic Republic Senator Riyo Chuchi, Barriss was immediately on guard. Ahsoka may be naive and charismatic enough to make friends with most everyone, but that doesn’t mean she _should_. Barriss sent a small Mind Probe at Riyo while she wasn’t paying attention. Not to get her life’s story; but just to find out how she was. Reading Riyo’s mind was like stepping out into Coruscanti traffic. The Mind Probe only lasted three seconds under that onslaught of thoughts, and Barriss has been blaster-shy around Riyo since.

Out of anyone else’s mouth, Riyo’s explanation could be taken at face value, but of course, this is Riyo. She’d have a mile-long list of reasons why she needed Barriss to come out tonight, but she’d never tell.

“I can’t believe you would settle for learning from inferior sources of information,” Riyo says.

‘Inferior sources.’ By the Force, she _did not_.

“I wouldn’t!” Barriss says.

“So you agree that going to the festival would be in your best interests?”

Barriss squints down at Riyo, filled with cold dread; the kind felt when she’s about to open up a patient and find out that the damage is far worse than anticipated. Riyo’s deceptively simple question warrants a similar caution.

“Senator Chuchi, you’ve painted me into a corner.”

Riyo gives her a disarming smile, which does nothing to quell Barriss’s unease. “How good at my job would I be if I couldn’t do that, Master Jedi?”

“Not very good.”

“But perhaps you’re right. Perhaps another angle would be best.” Riyo takes Barriss’s hands in hers. Her hands are warm—Pantorans are warm in general—and they’re more comforting than a politician’s hands have a right to be. “You and Ahsoka are my friends, and I’d like to spend time with the both of you. Alright?”

If that wasn’t enough, Ahsoka puts her hand on her shoulder, her eyes bright. Barriss sighs.

“Yes.”

“Yay!” Ahsoka picks Barriss up around the waist and twirls and the Force flares between the two of them, all bright promise. Riyo laughs and Barriss’s face heats up. When Ahsoka puts her back down, Barriss’s traitorous hands descend upon one of her biceps to steady herself.

It’s a good bicep. Barriss didn’t even know she had thoughts about what constitutes a good bicep beyond “functional” until now, and she quickly drops her hands.

“You won’t regret it, Barriss,” Ahsoka says. “I promise.”

Barriss just nods, not trusting herself to speak.

“Taxi!” Riyo hails a yellow speeder.

* * *

The Faustian Festival is held in a wide park in the next quadrant over. It’s a little more than a hundred square acres, big enough to house a Fair and several long, temporary halls and tents. There are species of all kinds here; this is Coruscant after all, but Faustians have the biggest presence. Most are dressed in traditional leather clothes, and even bring their fuzzy children.

Barriss catches Ahsoka staring at one of them and says, “it’s to camouflage them in the blue grass on their home planet. They shed it at puberty.”

“Oh.” Ahsoka comes in close to her, as if hemmed in by the crowd, but she really isn’t. Ahsoka has grown in the short amount of time she’s been off-planet and now pushes about 6’4”, which is average for Togruta. Passerby give her a wide berth and glance at her with slack-jaws before moving on. Barriss and Riyo stick close to her side to keep from getting lost.

A group of boisterous college students stagger past them. A couple of them must be supported in order to stand at all, and Barriss peers closer at them. Are they sick? Surely she’s not the only one who sees them, but everyone else acts as if nothing is amiss. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafts over as they pass, and Riyo perks up.

“Roasted almonds! Let’s get that.” Riyo stops before a wide map board and peers at it. “There should be a stall somewhere.”

“Riyo, those people we passed could barely stand. Did you see them?” Barriss asks.

“I did.”

“They need help.”

Riyo waves it away as she continues to scan the map. “Don’t worry, Barriss. They’ll be fine.”

Barriss doubts that very much, but she drops the subject and looks at the map too. There’s a list of food stands and a list of several beer halls. The pieces click together, and Barriss turns to Riyo.

“This is a _beer festival!_ You’ve roped me into a beer festival!”

Riyo cooly points to the nearest food stall and turns away from the map. She leads them down a row of tents. “The fact that you didn’t know that Faustian culture revolves around beer confirms my hypothesis that you need to get out more.”

Barriss falls into step with Riyo and gives her the best glare she can muster. “You tricked me! You said you were my friend and you tricked me. Are you totally incapable of feeling remorse for your actions?”

“No. I can feel remorse when it benefits me.”

Barriss falters and falls behind with Ahsoka, who laughs.

“Riyo! Please!”

Riyo winks back at them from over her shoulder.

Ahsoka leans over to Barriss and says, “she’s doing this on purpose. You know that, right?”

Barriss cannot believe that anyone could be that manipulative. “You mean to tell me that she is _trying_ to vex me?”

“Yeah.”

_“Riyo!”_

The shorter girl gives her an apologetic look. “Guilty. I’m sorry, Barriss.”

Ahsoka chuckles. “You better stop before you break her.”

“I will.” Riyo buys a small bag of roasted almonds and after taking a handful of almonds, offers the bag to Ahsoka, who shakes her head. Riyo presses the bag into Barriss’s hands.

Barriss digs into the bag. “Respectfully, Senator, you’re awful.”

Riyo laughs. “Would I be good at my job if I weren’t?”

“Riyo!” Ahsoka’s face takes on a pained expression. “Why’d you agree with that?”

“Oh Ahsoka, that’s sweet of you to think otherwise. I’m being facetious and self aware. I like to think I’m a benevolent politician, but I’m still a politician.” Riyo pops a few almonds into her mouth.

The three of them walk through the fair side of the festival as they finish the almonds. Riyo stops at a shooting gallery modeled after a pastiche of the deep Faustian woods. There are target sensors next to the Faustian fauna and semi-sentient flora, next to dolls of hikers and woodsmen, some bolted over different buildings in a model town, and even one put up next to a tiny model of the Mad King’s castle up in the corner. Riyo wipes her hands on a napkin and slides a couple credits into a slot, activating one of the rifles.

Ahsoka and Barriss join Riyo at the counter to watch.

“How are the shooting lessons going?” Ahsoka asks.

“Terribly.” Riyo lifts the rifle and places the butt against her shoulder. She aims. “But I can see why Padmé recommended I take them. Coruscanti politics is rife with blasters.”

PEW.

Nothing happens. Riyo hums and aims again.

“What kind of Pantoran doesn’t know how to shoot?” Barriss asks. She doesn’t usually say things like that. She doesn’t! But the Senator might deserve it.

Riyo smiles against the rifle. “Touché, Barriss.”

Ahsoka rolls her eyes. “Are you guys gonna be like this all night?”

“It’s all in good fun.” Riyo shoots again and misses again. 

Ahsoka frowns, but doesn’t comment further. “I don’t understand how you can be a good person and yet awful at the same time,” she says instead.

“I think I understand,” Barriss says.

“Like on a personal level? How?” Ahsoka asks.

Barriss can’t bring herself to meet Ahsoka’s eyes. She mumbles, “well, it’s because…well, nevermind. It’s nothing.”

“No, tell us. Please?” Ahsoka’s voice softens. “Please?”

She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But she’s not in the Temple and she’s not talking to just any Jedi; she’s talking to Ahsoka. If there’s anyone who isn’t going to shun her, it’s the person standing right next to her. Barriss’s stomach tightens, but she takes a deep breath and says, “it’s…well…I’m a Jedi, but instead of being the peacekeeper I’m meant to be, I’m fighting in this war.”

Ahsoka’s face screws up. “But the best way to restore peace is to fight this war. We’re doing the best we can.”

“But what if we shouldn’t be doing anything at all?” Barriss asks. “What if the best course to peace is to let the Confederate Systems be?”

“But the Confederate Systems aren’t interested in peace! They’re not interested in a treaty.”

Riyo aims the rifle up to the back of the gallery. “Ahsoka, please try to understand Barriss. She’s a healer, meant to put people right and cure them. Instead of doing that, she’s a commander in the Grand Army and playing butcher.”

PEW.

Fans start blowing from underneath the model of the Mad King’s castle, making red and yellow strips of cloth dance and completing the illusion that the model is on fire.

Barriss freezes, numb, and must remind herself to breathe. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Knowledge like _despite being a bad shot, Riyo Chuchi_ sniped _her and is probably going to do it again before the night is done._

Riyo rests the rifle on the counter and turns to face the two Jedi. “Is that supposed to be some kind of face, Offee?”

Barriss drops her gaze.

Riyo sighs and steps closer. “There are Republic laws that forbid the use of child soldiers, but thanks to a Jedi-Republic treaty, the Jedi are their own entity and aren’t beholden to Republic laws. When the Senate agreed to give the Jedi command over the GAR, we didn’t consider the fact that we were also giving command to their padawan learners. I’m sorry.”

Something in Barriss rebells. She is Jedi, and Jedi don’t need pity. They don’t _need_ anything. They don’t _want_ anything, least of all hollow apologies from a junior senator.

Is it hollow though? The Force around her seems genuinely repentant.

Barriss scoffs. “You weren’t even a senator when the war started.”

“Well I’m sorry all the same. Someone’s got to be.” Riyo takes Barriss’s hands again, and for some strange reason, Barriss lets her. “Let’s get some real food, yeah? My treat.”

* * *

Ever since she’s watched Ahsoka Mind Trick that Neimoidian guard on the Trade Federation ship, Riyo has come up with an idea: Lawyers can Mind Trick people without using the Force. It takes a much longer time, and it only works in changing the most superfluous of opinions, but it’s possible. She hasn’t told anyone this idea, and she’s only going to use these powers for good. Only for good, even if it doesn’t appear that way.

The first and only beer hall they step into is a riot of color and sound, much noisier than Riyo expected. A live band plays traditional Faustian drinking songs from a dais in the middle of the hall. Some drunk men have climbed onto the platform and they spill beer everywhere as they lead the hall during the chorus. In fact, there are people standing on tables everywhere in the hall. It’s filled-to-bursting with sentients. Ahsoka winces and grasps her montrals and the three of them leave. They don’t go far though. This particular hall serves the best beer, and Riyo ushers Ahsoka and Barriss to one of the many tables just outside.

Riyo flags down a waitress and orders in Faustian: three beers, a meat patter and a couple servings of fries. She slips a few credits to the waitress and tells her to keep the change.

“I didn’t know you spoke Faustian,” Ahsoka says. “What other languages do you speak?”

“Basic sign-language and Twi’leki. I learned them while I was a lawyer on Pantora. Padmé says I should know more languages though. She’s recommended a few to me.”

The waitress comes back with the beer in one hand and the food in the other. She sets the beer mugs on the table and unthreads her arm from the handles, then places the food in the middle of the table.

“Danke!” Riyo says. The waitress smiles and leaves. Riyo turns back to the Jedi to find them gaping at the beer mugs.

“This is a liter,” Barriss says, her eyes wide. “Riyo, you got us three liters of beer.”

“It’s the only size of beer they offer. Don’t worry, Barriss. Ahsoka and I can finish whatever you can’t.” Riyo pulls one of the mugs to her, then pushes the other two towards the Jedi.

Barriss looks back and forth between Riyo and her mug. “One of these things is bigger than you are.”

“Indeed? If I drink the entire thing, I’ll be approximately five percent beer.”

“As a medical practitioner, I recommend that you don’t do that.”

“Aw, Barriss. I’m touched.” Riyo pauses and hopes that this next bit doesn’t sound too rehearsed. “But you don’t need to dissuade me from drinking if you’re worried about being the odd girl out. Ahsoka and I won’t judge you for abstaining.”

Barriss glares. “I’m not scared of drinking.”

“I didn’t say you were scared.” Riyo turns to Ahsoka. “Did I say she was scared?”

Ahsoka cringes and, in order to not answer, picks up a slice of bacon and stuffs it into her mouth. She shrugs.

Riyo laughs. “Alright, I concede.” She lifts her mug. “A toast.”

CLINK.

Riyo catches Barriss’s eye as she drinks and doesn’t look away. Instead of lowering her mug after a second like Ahsoka does, she raises it a little higher. Barriss’s eyes harden and she lifts her mug too, mirroring her. Riyo would smile if she could. She’d grin like a fool.

It’s in Barriss’s best interests, even if it seems like something the Trickster Goddex would pull.

Half an hour later, when most of the beer is gone and all the food is eaten, Riyo rubs her faceand finds that her face and her hands are starting to numb. Sounds are starting to muffle too. Riyo hopes that she isn’t shouting as she asks a simple question. Ahsoka and Barriss share a look of horror and say at the same time: “No!”

Riyo raises her hands in surrender. “Don’t yell at me, I’m coming from a place of gen-uh-genuine curiosity.”

“The Force is not a sex toy, Riyo,” Ahsoka whispers.

“That’s not what I meant,” Riyo says. “I wasn’t asking about skinholos, I was asking—stop crying, Barriss—I was asking about the accuracy of Jedi holomovies in general.”

“I’m not crying, I’m just too sober for this conversation.” Barriss’s cheeks are colored a darker green blush under her tattoos. She takes several gulps from her mug and lowers it, still half full. She exhales. “Oof. Better.”

“The answer’s still ‘no.’ Are you gonna finish that?” Ahsoka’s mug is the only empty one, and she points to Riyo’s, which has only a quarter of beer left. Riyo shakes her head ’no’ and pushes it away.

“You can finish mine too, Ahsoka,” Barriss says.

Ahsoka grins and takes both mugs. “Thanks. You guys are the best.”

“Riyo, if you’re so curious about Jedi and Jedi philosophy, you’re welcome to take a class,” Barriss says. “We give specific classes tailored to outsiders.”

Before the War, the Jedi would assign Senior Padawan to give tours to outsiders. Usually to small groups of tourists, and sometimes private tours for companies having team outings or to politicians trying to show off to their colleagues. The tourism gave the Temple a considerable financial boost, and a positive public reputation. But now, the Jedi’s participation in the War demands they keep the Temple secure, and the tours have been replaced by small, one hour classes with a holopicture slideshow.

“She’s already taken that,” Ahsoka says. Barriss goes quiet, then turns to Riyo with an intensity that Riyo’s never seen before.

“If you’ve already taken that class, then why do you ask us these disturbing questions?” Barriss whispers.

“The class was pretty basic. All the padawan did was read to us from that informational pamphlet you can get from the receptionist. And then he showed us shirtless holoselfies he took in a refresher mirror and asked us to choose one for his official Jedi profile.”

Barriss pinches the bridge of her nose. “You wouldn’t happen to remember his name, would you?”

“I repressed it as soon I left the room,” Riyo says. “Anyways, I have to sate my curiosity somehow, right? I might as well go to you two.”

“You have a point,” Barriss says. “Very well. What do you want to know about Jedi doctrine?”

“Ahsoka’s already done a wonderful job explaining that. Can you please explain Sith Philosophy?” Riyo asks.

Ahsoka turns her head and spits her beer out, spraying a nearby protocol droid.

Barriss nods, then stands up. “I’m done. Thank you for the meal.”

“I’m being perfectly serious,” Riyo says.

“So am I. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were sent by the Council to test us. Or worse, sent by my master.”

Ahsoka coughs and gently wraps her fingers around Barriss’s elbow. “Stay? Please?”

“By the Gods, I’m not an undercover agent, Barriss,” Riyo says.

“She’s really not. Come on, Barriss,” Ahsoka says.

“She asked us if we knew Sith Doctrine,” Barriss says. “ _Sith Doctrine_ , Ahsoka.”

“When I litigated, I made sure to understand what argument my opposition would make, so that I could better undermine it,” Riyo says. “On Pantora, Mother Moon priestesses must study other religions to better fortify their faith. Does the Jedi Order arm its apprentices with the knowledge necessary to fight the Sith?”

“You’re doing it again,” Barriss says.

“Doing what?”

“That thing you do, with your words and your logic.” Barriss sits, much to Riyo’s amazement. “The Council makes a point not to teach Sith Doctrine. They feel it’d be counter productive.”

“And what do _you_ think?” Riyo asks. “Clearly you don’t agree with everything the Council says.”

“Master Kenobi did a lot of research into the Sith after he defeated one on Naboo,” Ahsoka says. “He published a flimsi.”

“He _what?_ ” Barriss asks.

“Yeah, what a nerd, right? But Anakin and I read it anyway because we keep coming across that one Sith assassin, Asajj Ventress. And then I read some of the stuff Master Kenobi read too.” Ahsoka turns the freshly emptied mug around in her hands. “He doesn’t talk about that flimsi much, because the Council considers it a black mark on his record. He thought it’d keep him from becoming a master.” She turns to Barriss. “You should read it too. I can send it to you.”

Barriss’s face goes blank as she looks at her, then at Riyo. “My friends are all heretics,” she whispers.

“Oh Barriss, that’s sweet that you still consider us friends,” Riyo says. “Listen, I understand that the Council considers it a big no-no, but you can’t exactly form rebuttals to things unless you’ve read about the actual thing you’re arguing against.”

“But what if a counter-argument can’t be formed?” Barriss asks. She twists her hands in her lap. “What if I read it and then when I try to disagree I find that I can’t?”

“What are you talking about? The only way that would be a problem is if you think Jedi values aren’t defendable.” Ahsoka says this with a slight smile, as if the notion is absurd, but when Barriss doesn’t disagree, it slowly disappears. “Barriss?”

Barriss chews the inside of her cheek and looks down. “I know what you’re trying to do, Riyo. It’s commendable. But what if, when I take the metaphorical hammer to the Jedi and try to prove their strength, I do the opposite instead? If the Order is…hollow, I don’t want to find out what’s really inside. I don’t want to find out if I already know what it might be.” Her shoulders slump.

Ahsoka looks at Riyo with wide eyes. This…whatever they thought they were going to find tonight, it wasn’t this. This is…. Riyo’s chest tightens and she catches Ahsoka’s eye. She nods her head at Barriss. Ahsoka reaches out and her hand descends gently onto Barriss’s shoulder.

“Barriss? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Barriss braces herself under Ahsoka’s touch, but doesn’t shy away. “I shouldn’t have said that. What kind of Jedi am I? How could I say those things about the Order?”

“No, don’t. Thank you for telling us,” Riyo says. “How long have you felt this way?”

“Too long,” Barriss says. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

Ahsoka opens her mouth to answer, but Riyo interrupts her.

“Would it make you feel better if we said ’yes?’” Riyo asks. Both of their faces crumble, and Riyo takes care to choose her words carefully.

“I am an outsider, so I can’t accurately judge how the Jedi Order has changed. But I am a Senator for the Galactic Republic, and I can say that the relationship between the Republic and the Jedi has changed, and so has changed both the Republic and the Jedi. We don’t yet know the consequences of this.”

“Are you saying I’m right?” Barriss asks in a hushed voice.

“I’m saying that your questions are valid and need to be asked,” Riyo says. Ahsoka and Barriss share a look of fear.

* * *

The nearest refresher is located in its own building on the edge of the park and is minded by an attendant. This attendant sits on a stool near the door and hands out breath mints, hot towelettes and other amenities to women on their way out. Some of these women drop credits into a shallow dish for the attendant’s trouble.

Ahsoka finished her business a while ago, and she waits in front of Barriss’s stall. Despite having roughly two liters of beer, she’s already sobering up. She’s sobering up and she cannot believe what Barriss said.

Like okay, she went to Riyo out of desperation, but she didn’t think they’d actually get anything out of Barriss. And if they did get something out of Barriss, it wasn’t supposed to be… that. Out of all the things that could be wrong, it’s the worst. Possible. Thing.

Is she wrong? Ahsoka was going to say “yes” out of a knee-jerk reaction, but then Riyo asked that Akul of a question. What if it doesn’t matter if she’s right or not? What if it’s already bad that the questions have to asked at all?

Riyo walks down the long aisle of ‘fresher stalls towards her. A Faustian woman passes by them, and Ahsoka reaches out to touch her arm.

“I like your dress.”

“Thank you!” The woman beams at Ahsoka before moving on.

Riyo smiles up at her. “How are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. How would you feel if someone you trusted said that the Galactic Senate was fake?”

Riyo winces. “Point taken.” She lowers her voice so they won’t be overheard. “I’ll admit I didn’t really believe you when you said she was conflicted. I’ve never heard a Jedi critique the Order before. Do you think she’s on to something?”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with the Order, but I’d be dumb not to listen to Barriss. I don’t notice a lot of things and Barriss picks up on a lot of stuff. I don’t know. I don’t want to…I don’t know.”

Riyo takes her hand. “It’s alright. We’ll figure it out together.”

It won’t be alright ever again. Even if it turns out there was nothing wrong with the Order, no one can put that Tooka back in that bag.

Ahsoka knocks on the door. “Barriss? You okay? You’ve been in there for a long time.”

No answer. Ahsoka knocks again.

“Barriss?”

Still nothing.

“Hoist me up?” Riyo asks. Ahsoka leans against the door and braces her hands against her thigh.

“Okay, go.”

Riyo steps on Ahsoka’s hands and she raises her until she can hook her chin over the top of the door to look. After a couple moments, Riyo hops down.

“She’s sleeping in there.”

Ahsoka freezes in the middle of brushing her hands clean on her poncho. “What? Is she okay?”

“I don’t know, that’s why we have to get in there.”

Ahsoka raises a hand and unlatches the lock using the Force. She pushes through the door and there, sitting on the toilet, is Barriss. Her elbow rests on her knee and her chin rests in her palm. Her eyes are closed. Ahsoka crouches down to better see Barriss’s face.

“Barriss? Barriss? Riyo, she isn’t answering.”

Riyo gently pushes Ahsoka further into the stall so that they can close the door behind them.

Riyo holds a hand in front of Barriss’s face. “She’s breathing.” She crouches before Barriss and says, “Barriss? Barriss, wake up. You need to wake up for us.”

Barriss mumbles something that resembles disagreement. Riyo frowns.

“How can she be this drunk? She only finished half the liter.”

“Mirialans are sensitive to alcohol,” Ahsoka says. Riyo looks up at her with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know how sensitive; it was just something Barriss mentioned once and that was it.”

Barriss says nothing.

Riyo pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “It’s okay,” she says.

“Is it?” Ahsoka feels awful. She did this. She just _had to know_ what was bothering Barriss so badly and now here they are and Barriss is _unconscious_.

“It’ll be okay! I know what to do; I’ve been to my share of sorority parties. She’s going to be okay. We’re going to help her. Barriss, we’re going to help you, but you need to help us help you. Do you understand?”

Barriss mumbles something that resembles agreement.

“Good. Then you need to stand up. Can you stand for us?” Riyo tugs on Barriss’s arms until she gets to her feet, swaying. Riyo puts Barriss’s hands on Ahsoka’s shoulders and says, “hold her. I’m going to make her presentable.”

Ahsoka nods and hugs Barriss to steady her while Riyo works.

“I’m sorry, Barriss,” Ahsoka says, and the amount of guilt that drips from her words makes Riyo wince. “I wanted to hang out with you, but I didn’t want _this_. I’m really sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, Barriss,” Riyo says. “I shouldn’t have goaded you to drink.”

“’S’alright,” Barriss whispers against Ahsoka’s shoulder. Her eyes are still closed. “I wanted…I wanted to see you too. We don’t see each other enough.”

Ahsoka’s mouth twists in a sort of smile. “Even Riyo?”

“Riyo’s a nice person and it’s a good thing she isn’t Force-Sensitive because she’d make a good Sith,” Barriss whispers.

“I’m flattered,” Riyo says. “I’m done. Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Barriss whispers. She frowns. “No.”

Barriss jerks her head away and vomits over Ahsoka’s shoulder and down her back. It spatters over the floor behind her.

Riyo slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.

Ahsoka freezes, her back ramrod straight. It’s on her lek. It’s warm and wet and _it’s on her lek._

Barriss grimaces. “Ugh.”

“You’re _fine!_ You’re _okay!_ ” Riyo pulls handfuls of toilet paper from the roll and rushes around to clean Ahsoka up. “Ahsoka, can you maneuver Barriss so that she’s facing the toilet?”

Ahsoka takes a few small, stilted steps until Barriss is facing the right direction.

“Ahsoka…I’m so sorry,” Barriss whispers.

Riyo throws the soiled toilet paper into the bowl and reaches for the roll. “We’re all sorry, Barriss. Just don’t hold it in. Let it all out. Into the toilet. Aim for the toilet.”

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Ahsoka chants to herself as Barriss burps.

* * *

Ahsoka is able to half-lead, half-carry Barriss through the refresher, but as soon as they get through the doors, Barriss’s knees buckle. Ahsoka lowers her off to the side, away from the crowd, and Barriss sits against the wall. She buries her face in her hands and begins to cry.

She’s never seen Barriss cry before, and the only visual signs that something is amiss are stuttered breaths and trembling shoulders. The Force around Barriss is what convinces her. Barriss’s aura is wretched and taut, like it’ll tear at the slightest excuse. Ahsoka sinks down onto her knees before Barriss.

“I’m okay, Barriss, really. It’s just my poncho and that’s totally replaceable.” It better be. As soon as Barriss’s stomach was empty, and as soon as Ahsoka was cleaned up, she took off the poncho and threw it into the garbage bin.

Barriss shakes her head.

“What is it?”

“I’m…I’m not a good Jedi.”

Ahsoka peers closer at her, astonished. “If you’re not a good Jedi, then I don’t wanna know what that makes me. What do you think a good Jedi is like?”

“Not…not this!” Barriss gestures to herself. “Look at me. Wait, no. Don’t look at me. I’m a disgrace.”

“You’re drunk. Being drunk and being a good Jedi can be mutually inclusive.”

Barriss wipes her eyes on her sleeve. “No, they can’t.”

Riyo crouches down next to Ahsoka and holds out a folded paper towel. “I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself.”

“What if I don’t want to be a Jedi anymore? I’ve spent my whole life wanting to be a Knight, and Master Unduli tells me that I’ll be a good Knight, but good knights _fight in wars_.” Barriss stubbornly turns her head so that she won’t have to look at any of them. “If that’s what being a Jedi means, then I don’t want it, but I can’t not want it because Master Unduli would be so disappointed. Not being a Knight after all…that would be so terrible. I couldn’t do that to her.”

“Oh Barriss!” Riyo reaches out and hugs her. “Anyone would be upset if they had to ask themselves those questions.”

“I shouldn’t be asking those questions at all,” Barriss says. “it’s not a padawan’s place to question the Council or their master.”

The three of them are surrounded by several emergency responders, all wearing dark uniforms and pushing a hover-stretcher between them. They’re very solemn, but also resigned, as if this isn’t something they haven’t dealt with before. One of them glances at the chrono on his wrist and scans the crowd beyond them for other people too inebriated to stand.

“Braucht sie Hilfe?” They ask as they point at Barriss. “Wir können ihr helfen.”

“Oh!” Riyo gets to her feet and goes to them. “Nein, nein danke. Das kriegen wir hin.”

Ahsoka turns back to Barriss, who stares helplessly back at her.

“No one questions the Council. Anyone who tries gets sent to the Citadel, you know that, right? If I tell them I don’t believe in fighting this war, that’s where they’ll put me,” Barriss says.

“But you can’t expect to just ship out on another tour. It’s chewing you up inside.”

“Then I’d either rot in jail, or rot on the battlefield. At least with the later I’d have fresh air.”

Riyo crouches down next to them. “Barriss, I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring you back to the Jedi Temple while you’re like this. Would it be alright we went back to my flat instead?”

Barriss takes a shuddery breath. “I don’t know. Master Unduli is expecting me.”

“Then I’ll com her and tell her that you’ll return in the morning.” Riyo is so serious that she almost seems sober. “Unless you really do want to go back to the Jedi Temple tonight. Do you want us to bring you to the Temple?”

Barriss’s face screws up and she buries her face in her hands. “Please don’t.”

* * *

By the time they get back to Riyo’s apartment, Barriss is non-responsive, and she rag dolls in their arms. Riyo and Ashoka manage to sit her on the edge of the wide bed, and Riyo keeps her upright with a hand on her shoulder. Barriss sleeps on, oblivious.

“There’s a change of clothes in the closet. They’re big on me, so they might fit you,” Riyo says. She points to the walk-in closet. “There’s also a towel.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ahsoka says. “I’m going to help with Barriss.”

“I can handle Barriss. You need a shower.” Riyo pulls her into the closet and pushes a towel and some clothes into her arms, then leads her to the refresher. “Turn the dial this way for hot, and this way for cold.” Riyo takes an extra washcloth from the cabinet and wets it under the sink, then wrings it out. “This should be enough to clean Barriss up, yes? Let me know if you need anything.” And with that, Riyo leaves and closes the refresher door behind her.

Fifteen minutes later, Ahsoka emerges from the refresher wearing Riyo’s shirt. It’s an old shirt, oversized, with the letters Dorn, Leth, Senth emblazoned on the front in block letters. It probably stands for Defiance Law School. Riyo mentioned it once. Ahsoka steps into the bedroom and pauses.

Barriss is in bed, fast asleep. Her hood is gone, and her clothes have been changed. This is not a problem. The problem is that Riyo is also in bed. Barriss’s head rests against Riyo’s shoulder and her arm is draped across her waist. Riyo holds a data pad over Barriss’s head and scrolls, but when she catches sight of Ahsoka, she sets it on the nightstand and beckons to her.

“Get in here,” Riyo whispers. “She needs you on her other side.”

Ahsoka comes closer. Barriss’s brown hair is absolutely disheveled, and sticks up every which way in soft spikes. It grows long enough to cover the tops of her ears and is unruly in the back, like she hasn’t had it trimmed in a while. Ahsoka smoothes the bangs out of Barriss’s face.

“You took off her hood.”

“It was stained. All of our clothes need to go in the wash.” Riyo pauses as horror flickers over her face. “Do I need to marry her now? Is that how it works?”

Ahsoka chuckles and shakes her head. “Nah. Barriss says that in Mirialan culture, hoods are for priests and priestesses. Shamans. That kind of thing. You gotta earn a hood.”

“I’ll set the load on gentle cycle then,” Riyo whispers. “Get in here.”

“I can sleep on the couch.”

“You will get in here if you want Barriss to live.”

There must be something wrong with her montrals because she swears she just heard something too outrageous to be true. “What?”

“Her body temperature’s a little low, so we have to warm her up. I may be a living hot-water bottle, but that may not be enough. You need to help. Get in here.”

Ahsoka runs her hand down her face. “Riyo….”

This is not a big deal. It’s not! In the creche, Jedi younglings sleep in piles all the time, like Tooka kittens, for similar reasons. Some youngling species can’t regulate their body temperatures yet, and Togruta kits are notorious cuddlers, so when it’s time to sleep, they all just pile up. The habit doesn’t really change when they get older either. In clans, younglings separate into smaller piles, because sleeping mats aren’t big enough for everyone, but they pile up all the same. Really, sleeping separately is the anomaly, and Ahsoka didn’t start doing that until she became Anakin’s padawan and started serving in the war. It’s not a big deal.

It’s not a big deal.

It’s just Barriss. And Riyo. And her. All in the same bed.

“Okay.” Ahsoka goes to the other side of the bed and crawls in. The covers are warm and soft, and Ahsoka situates herself against Barriss, with her cheek against her back.

Her very cold back.

Ahsoka’s hands go to Barriss’s sides and feels more cold. “Riyo, she really _is_ cold. Are you sure she’ll be okay?”

Ahsoka can’t see Riyo over Barriss’s shoulder, but she can sense Riyo thinking (it’s hard _not_ to sense Riyo thinking, to be honest. If she has any mental shields, they could use some strengthening).

Riyo’s other hand comes over and rests between Barriss’s back and Ahsoka’s stomach. Ahsoka clenches and her breath catches. She doesn’t relax again until Riyo’s hand withdraws.

Riyo hums. “If she doesn’t warm up in the next fifteen minutes, we’ll bring her to the hospital.”

“Okay,” Ahsoka says.

“Ahsoka?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really sorry about tonight. I didn’t mean for Barriss to get this drunk.”

“I doubt she’d be as open as she was if she wasn’t,” Ahsoka says. Her cheek rises and falls as Barriss breathes. “She’s afraid of being sent to the Citadel. The Council wouldn’t send her to the Citadel, would they? I mean, the Council doesn’t trust Anakin with anything, but they’ve never even hinted at sending him there.”

“I’ve done some reading about the Citadel, and it doesn’t sound like the place they’d send someone like Barriss,” Riyo says. “It sounds like the last possible option they’d use for any sort of issue.”

“It’s just that Barriss is smart, like really smart. What if this war _is_ wrong? What if we shouldn’t be fighting in it?”

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask,” Riyo gently says. “I don’t fight in this war like you do.”

“But you can vote to create more troops. You can vote to open peace talks with the Separatists.”

“Yes, I can affect this war up to a point, but at the end of the day, I press buttons from the comfort of my repuslorpod. I don’t have a physical stake in it.”

“What do we do?”

“What do we do?” Riyo repeats. “We sleep. All this stuff; it’s too much. It’s too much for one night.”

“So what? We wake up tomorrow and then we go back as if nothing happened?”

“I didn’t say that. I do intend on getting Barriss to talk more, but in the morning, because she obviously can’t talk _now_. Things are less scary in the daytime anyway.” Riyo slides her hand between Ahsoka’s stomach and Barriss’s back again, but this time, Ahsoka doesn’t flinch.

“How does she feel to you?” Riyo asks.

“She feels a lot warmer,” Ahsoka says.

“Good. Then we won’t need an ambulance. Scoot back, will you? She’s been sleeping on my arm and it’s gone numb.” Riyo grunts as she shifts Barriss over and onto Ahsoka. Barriss’s head lolls onto Ahsoka’s shoulder and she makes a small sound of protest, but doesn’t wake up. Her hand even closes around the tip of Ahsoka’s lek and she curls up against her. Ahsoka freezes. It’s not a big deal.

It’s not a big deal.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please drop some favorites, kudos, or leave some feedback. Let me know what you liked, and what you didn't like, or if you want to see more. 
> 
> On an unrelated note, if you ever get the chance to go to Oktoberfest, and I mean the Oktoberfest in Munich, Germany, you should go. I highly recommend it. 
> 
> Thanks again!


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